


Happy Anniversary

by Petrichor_Amber



Series: Some Assembly Required [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Anniversary, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Porn, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Public Scene, Sexting, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichor_Amber/pseuds/Petrichor_Amber
Summary: It's been one year since Cas walked into Dean's life, and they're going to celebrate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness thank you to everyone for your amazing and lovely comments/recs/messages/etc. You are the best! Y'all had me so pumped that I cranked out 10k in smut just for you; consider it a peace offering after the slowest burn ever.

Dean rolls over to feel sunlight on his face, and has the distinct sensation that someone is watching him. He opens his eyes to discover he’s right, and that his boyfriend Cas is lying in bed gazing over at him.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s just creepy.” He props himself up, shaking the sleep from his eyes and taking in the room. Cas always stays at Dean’s place, so when he suggested they go back to his own apartment last night Dean was excited for the chance to see his place. He had been telling the truth, it isn’t much, but something about it is so very _Cas_ that Dean instantly loved it. He leans over to give Cas a quick peck. “Thank god tomorrow’s the weekend, I can’t wait to spend all day in bed with you.”

That’s when Dean notices how quiet Cas has been, and how nervous he looks. _Was it nervous? Suspicious maybe?_ Something is definitely up, and Dean’s going to find out what. Dean glares at him with his ‘out with it’ face until Cas squirms and gets out of bed.

As Cas starts pulling on clothes he begins stammering awkwardly. “Sorry, early morning class, I need to get going. Plus, much as Ellen says she likes me, I’m pretty sure she’ll tan my hide if you’re late again.”

“Oh my god do not talk like them when I’m still naked in your bed. Hard no.” Dean shakes his head as he accidentally pictures the closest thing he has to a mom chastising him. Cas chuckles and Dean grins, and for a seconds it’s normal. Then Cas blushes again and Dean remembers his mission. “Cas what is going on? You’ve gone all cuckoo’s nest this morning."

Cas shakes his head and then smiles, and Dean knows he’s done for, no matter what follows. “It’s nothing. Happy Anniversary Dean.”

_Anniversary?!? Is that a thing? Shit._ But then a thought occurs to Dean. “Wait, it’s October, we didn’t get together until the spring, after your conference!” His words slap Cas in the face as well as any backhand and he turns to look out the window, dejected.

Dean instantly regrets his reaction and tries to compensate. He gets out of bed and heads toward Cas. “I’m sorry, wait. I just, it hasn’t been a year yet, as far as I can tell, and even then I’m not sure when we should be counting from, so what anniversary, Cas?”

He turns back to Dean less morose but still not his usual self. Dean tries to salvage the moment by holding him with a hand on each shoulder, eyes locked. “Hey, I’m excited to do something for our anniversary, you just caught me off guard. I’ve never had one of these before, so I don’t really know what I’m doing here, ok?”

Cas seems to come out his trance and nods. “Of course Dean, that was thoughtless of me, I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anyth–” Dean cuts him off.

“If you have something planned, I’m in. Green, Cas. Whatever you want, let’s celebrate.” He means it and he hopes Cas can see that. He holds the man’s gaze a little bit longer than strictly necessary to try to convey that. Hell, he’d happily skywrite “D + C” in a big heart across the sky for everyone to see if that were still a thing. _Is that still a thing? Can you even hire skywriters anymore?_

“Well, if you’re sure. It’s, well it’s the anniversary of the first time we ate dinner together. Your brother never showed, I was awkward as hell, and you were too kind.” At this Dean lets out a full-bodied laugh, throwing his head back and bracing himself with the hands still resting on Cas’ shoulders.

“I think you have that backwards, but I’m not going to argue with you _on our anniversary.”_ Dean teases with the last words, knows he’s being obnoxiously domestic, but finds he doesn’t care. Hell, he’ll do anything today to make Cas happy, and he doesn’t mind for once if that’s written plain as day on his face.

“Ok.” Cas begins sheepishly, and Dean can’t figure for the life of him what’s going to happen next. “Well, if you’re up for it, I thought we could do dinner on campus, bit of a commemoration, you know? I, um, I got you a gift; I thought you could wear it to dinner, after work, once you’ve changed. If you want to.”

Dean’s not sure why Cas is rambling so but he can worry about that later once he actually knows what he’s dealing with. “Of course I’ll wear it Cas! If you picked it out I’m sure it’ll be awesome. Is it like a watch or something?”

At that Cas finally calms down, and Dean sees the smile he loves so much creep through. “Or something.” That smile spells trouble but Dean can’t help himself. He knows he’s putty in Cas’ hands.

“Ok cool, see you there, say, 6?” Dean knows he has to get going too, but he wants to finish this conversation before getting ready, wants Cas to know he has his full attention.

“Sounds great. Now let’s get ready or we’ll be subjected to a tongue-lashing by Ellen!” He breaks away from Dean to finish getting ready, and Dean grabs his clothes to put them on as quickly as possible. Cas may be weird about anniversaries, but he’s not wrong about Ellen Harvelle.

Thirty minutes later Dean’s dropping Cas off on campus and they’ve just pulled into the loading zone. Cas is flustered but Dean figures it’s cause they’re running late, despite their best intentions. Just before opening the door he leans in and kisses Dean deep and slow, the passion of promise just below a chaste veneer. “Happy anniversary,” he breathes, their lips just barely apart. “And don’t forget, after work.” He passes him a wrapped box slightly larger than a paperback before getting out of the car, waving goodbye, and heading off to his building.

*          *          *

Dean has never been a patient man. He’s also never been very good with surprises. He tries to ignore both these facts as he works around the shop Friday morning. He hadn’t thought much about it when Cas gave him the gift, but now that he’s here and had his earful from Ellen (Cas called that for sure) he’s having trouble keeping his mind off of it. Cas had said it was something for him to wear, but that it wasn’t a watch, so what is it? What if it’s a tie and it doesn’t match the one stupid shirt he owns and is going to wear tonight because damnit if he doesn’t actually want to look his best for his boyfriend.

_Boyfriend._ The word still seemed strange falling from his lips. No longer in a surprised or hesitant way, as it did at first, but in a nervous, incredulous way, as if he still isn’t sure how he has one and is always afraid he’ll lose him. Cas constantly reassures him that this is not the case, that he loves him and isn’t going anywhere, but Dean is so unaccustomed to this feeling he isn’t sure how to trust it. Only now, months in, is he starting to let his guard down all the way, and only some of the time, trusting Cas not to hurt him. It’s the scariest fucking thing he has ever done, exposing himself to Cas like this, being this vulnerable, but it’s been worth it so far.

Whether they’re hanging out or he just receives a text, Cas makes Dean smile every single day. And everyone’s fine. Sam’s safe. Bobby and Ellen are safe. Jo’s even started texting him from school and being a general pain in the ass, so he knows she’s ok. Between Cas’ constant affections and Bobby’s subtle reassurances Dean’s starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, this is it. He can be happy, and that’d be ok.

To be honest the past year has been amazing. He loved spending time with Cas before he realised how he felt, and except for their rough patch he’s loved every chance he’s had since to be with him. They text all the time but honestly they rarely go a day without seeing each other, and Cas stays over more nights than he doesn’t. They watch movies together or old sci-fi shows, order take out or make each other something (although it’s usually Dean who cooks), or stay in his room only leaving for water or washcloths.

Dean shudders slightly at the memory and the looks about, hoping no one saw him. It appears he’s safe this time. The garage is empty; the guys must be out searching for parts. Given that, Dean lets himself remember some of the highlights of their adventures so far. He should have known Cas was a liar when he played innocent all those months ago, pretending he didn’t know how to use safewords. _God, he knows exactly how to use them._ Dean tries to reign in his thoughts but it’s not working very well while their greatest hits roll through his mind’s eye: that first night Cas tied him up with his suspenders and caught him as he fell apart; the time Sam and Jess left town for a weekend and Cas took him on almost every surface in the house; the first time Cas fucked him with a dildo while blowing him and he’d thought he was going to die; the way Cas’ eyes trembled when Dean parked the car and went down on him on the side of the highway one night, unable to wait until they got home.

Dean rubs his hand across his forehead to wipe away the sheen that’s broken out. _Why exactly had this seemed like a good idea?_ He looks around again to ensure he is still alone, and then allows himself just one pass against his jeans over his swelling cock. It makes him moan and feel even worse but he needs it. Checking the clock he realises that it’s almost lunch, and while he’s not proud, he knows what he needs to do.

He sneaks into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He never wants to get caught, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to get caught here by any of the guys. Ugh, or Bobby. That alone has his dick a bit more under control, but right then his phone buzzes and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

_ <<Have you peeked yet? _

_Peeked at what?_ Oh right, the present. Dean angrily typed out a hurried reply.

_ >>Haven’t had time for games. Am in the bathroom seriously considering defiling myself because just remembering some of the things we’ve done gave me an embarrassingly pronounced situation here. _

_ <<Don’t stop on my account. _

Dean stares at the message a full ten seconds. _Did he just…This man is going to be the death of me, I swear._ He mutters to himself as he put the phone back in his pocket, trying to control himself. A second later it buzzes and he has to retrieve it again.

_ <<Would it make you feel better to know I already had to defile myself on campus this morning, which I might add is a higher risk level than the locked employees bathroom at the shop? _

_ >>You’re kidding me _

_ <<Never about this Dean. I was remembering the way you dropped to your knees for me last weekend, then how pretty you screamed when I drove you into the mattress _

_God. Fucking. Damnit._ Dean double-checks the lock and then hurriedly opens and drops his pants, not daring to put the phone down for a moment. _What the hell, right?_ _In for a penny…._

_ >>What else? _

_ <<What else did I need Dean? Just thinking of you reading a book or making breakfast gets me hard, thinking about the way you swirled your tongue around my cock in the back seat of your car was all I needed to push me over the edge. _

Fuck he’s in trouble. Dean tries to type back with his right hand while stroking himself with his left, but it’s too hard. He manages to type “geeeb” and get that off before giving up. As his phone buzzes again he guesses Cas has figured it out and decided to keep going.

_ <<I thought about how you taste, the way you grab my hair, my arms, my shoulder. Thought about the sounds you make as I open you up. Thought about that first time at the bar when I said “safeword” to you and your eyes nearly bugged out of your skull _

_Fuuuuuuck_. Dean is so close, he can feel it just out of reach. He bites his lip and lets his right hand take over, flying up and down with no finesse, just urgent, desperate _need_.

_ <<I thought about how completely you fall apart for me and let me put you back together, how you trust me with you, how you’ve opened up for me in every sense and how I can never properly show you how much I want you, need you, every second of every day _

_Ungh_. That’s it. Dean holds himself carefully so he doesn’t make a mess of his clothes, but he’s spurting all over his hand and gasping for air, leaning against the wall for support. Part of him is judging the way he came from a mushy message, but that voice isn’t as loud as it used to be, and he is able to quiet it now because he knows the truth. Cas loves him, and that love means more to him than any dirty text.

_ >>Fuck Cas. Just, holy shit. I can’t wait to see you tonight. _

_ <<Oh good. Cause I’ve got plans for you, Dean Winchester. Enjoy the rest of your lunch ;) _

He should’ve known better, he really should have, but this second he just doesn’t care. He waits a minute to catch his breath and then cleans up, making sure there’s no incriminating evidence left behind. Washing his hands, he sprays cold water in his face and then tries to go back to work. It’s going to be a long ass afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

People sometimes talk about “dog years” and how animals experience time differently than humans. They talk about the relativity of time and how it’s not the constant it appears to be. They say a watched pot never boils and that time flies when you’re having fun. As Dean works away, head in an engine, checking his watch after what has to be hours and sees that mere minutes have passed he knows that no one in the history of the world has ever wanted an afternoon to disappear as quickly as he does at this moment.

Ever since lunch he’s been desperate to see Cas tonight. He’s half-hard again, painfully distracted as he tries to keep himself busy, and has been clumsier than usual all afternoon. He’s no saint, he’s fooled around with phone sex, especially when he was younger and they were on the road so much, but he’d never sexted someone, never come from a text message. Something about it feels so…obedient, so submissive, that the thought gets him going again.

And then he remembers Cas’ first message. “ _Have you peeked yet?_ ”

What did it matter to him? It was for tonight, how exciting could a new tie or whatever be? But as Dean works away on the carburetor that’s been the bane of his existence all day his mind wanders. The firm pressure of the denim of his pants against his swelling cock helps it wander in a fairly specific direction, and suddenly he’s pretty sure that gift isn’t a tie.

He tries to remember the size and shape of the package Cas gave him this morning, tries to hypothesize what it could be. It’s too big to be a tie, too small to be a shirt. It wasn’t heavy enough to be rope; Dean’s learned the heft of that by now. It could be handcuffs or… _oh god_ or a cock ring. Dean goes from half-hard to straining against his jeans in seconds, desperately shifting to conceal the visceral reaction he’s having to the thought.

Since the night with the suspenders they’ve played with bondage a fair bit, trying out different positions and restraints, and having an incredible time learning what they both prefer while becoming familiar and intimate in a whole new way. They’ve talked about edging as well, but have not yet ventured there. Cas says he doesn’t want to overwhelm Dean again like that first time, and so they’ve stuck to bondage alone for now. But if it’s a cock ring, that means….

That means Cas is ready to push Dean in a bit further. The thought of being at Cas’ mercy, of being brought close to the edge over and over again, never being allowed to tip over, begging and pleading and knowing that Cas would wait until the absolute last second, until Dean is completely _wrecked_ before granting him that release…it does something to him.

He looks at his watch again and swears. _How the fucking HELL has it only been seven minutes?!?_ He’s not done for another hour, and at this rate he’ll never last. Exasperated, he bangs a wrench against the engine block and mutters “son of a bitch” under his breath.

“You gonna tell what’s going on today or just keep wailing on my cars?” Dean jumps at the sound of Bobby’s voice; he hadn’t heard him approach.

“Damnit Bobby, how the hell are you so light on your feet?” Dean snaps back on autopilot, buying some time to decide how to approach the question.

“If you must know I studied under Baryshnikov, you jackass! Now, what the hell is all this racket about? You and Cas have a fight? Or is it something with Sam?” _How does he know?_ Bobby always knows, the bastard. Goddamnit, this is going to get worse before it gets any better. Maybe he could get out of this with some half-truths?

“No, it isn’t Sam.” Dean sighs. Just cause he’s going to come clean doesn’t mean he has to enjoy this. “Cas and I, we had a, a thing this morning. Like a fight. And we’re supposed to do dinner later, and I’m just… I guess I’m worried about it.”

Bobby seems to barely react, but Dean can see his wheels turning. “Did either of you actually do something, or was this another stupid miscommunication?” _How does he do that? How can he possibly know?_

“Damnit Bobby, would you lay off?” He snaps to cover his frustration at being read so easily. Despite Bobby’s aloof nature and gruff façade the man seriously doesn’t miss a trick.

“So that’s a resounding ‘yes’ then.” Bobby shakes his head dismissively, clearly fed up with Dean’s melodramatics. “Look why don’t you take off now, you’re useless to me like this anyway. Go sort things out with your fella.”

Dean doesn’t even dare to hope this could end this well, but he isn’t about to take an out that easily. He tries to counter the old man with his own retort, playing some kind of reverse hard-to-get. “Come on, Bobby, it’s not that bad. I’ll finish this up and –”

“You’ll do no such thing boy. Now, surrender the wrench and get the hell out of my shop.” Dean can hear the love in Bobby’s voice, and it catches him off guard how obvious it is now that he knows to look for it. Dean spent so many years thinking he was alone, thinking it was just him and Sammy against the world, that he convinced himself no one loved him. Now that Cas has broken down that fence Dean’s been overwhelmed with how often he recognizes love from the people he cares about. He sees it when Ellen brings him a coffee at morning break; he hears it in Bobby’s voice when he’s giving him hell; he smells it when Jessica makes them lasagne; he reads it in Jo’s obnoxious texts; and he feels it in Sam’s continued meddling. Learning to accept Cas’ love has opened him up to accepting all their love, and Dean hasn’t felt so at home and cared for since he was four years old.

With a begrudging nod Dean passes Bobby the wrench, hangs up his coveralls, and heads out to his own car.

*          *          *

“You home tonight for dinner?” Sam asks Dean the second he walks through the door, gift in hand, and for a second Dean’s hit by a nearly crippling guilt. After all his hassling Sam last year now he’s the one busy with Cas all the time. Before he can answer though, Sam continues. “It’s not a big deal, but some friends invited me and Jess out to go to this new place that serves only locally sourced organic products, so if you weren’t going to be around anyway, I thought I might go.” He finishes a bit breathless, and from the slightly too casual delivery Dean gets the distinct impression Sam practiced this repeatedly. Regardless, if the universe wants to keep helping him out, he’ll take it. That doesn’t mean he has to hand in his big brother card though.

“Far be it from me to deprive you of such a magnificent experience.” Dean’s sarcastic deadpan elicits an immediate eye roll from his younger brother, which only spurs him on. “No seriously, I was going to make something really special tonight, but there’s no way it’ll compare to this magical land of local options, so please, I insist.”

Sam flings his arms in the air and snaps back. “Know what? Fine Dean, never mind, let’s do whatever you want to do. You don’t have to mock the whole locavore movement though, y’know.” Dean grunts in response before baiting him on.

“Loca-what-now?” Dean mumbles back, clearly trying to keep Sammy going.

“The loca – you know what? Nevermind. What’s that anyway?” After conceding defeat, or at least a stalemate, Sam gestures to the small blue box Dean somehow forgot he’s still holding.

“Oh, right. Um, it’s from Cas.” Dean doesn’t know what else to say, it’s not really Sam’s business anyway.

“Why did he buy you a present? Oh wait, it’s beginning of term! I guess this is like, your anniversary, right?” Sam looks at Dean as if this is completely obvious, and Dean again feels frustrated that he is the last to know. How is he so messed up that he doesn’t even understand simple things like anniversaries and gifts?

“Ya, I guess. It’s been a year since you bailed that first time. Which isn’t really our anniversary, but Cas wanted to celebrate, so, ya. We’re, we’re going to do that.” Dean finishes rather sheepishly, suddenly feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“How is this ‘not really’ your anniversary? You guys started hanging out all the time after that. Sure it took you a while to figure your shit out but you basically have been together ever since then.” Sam relays this perspective so calmly, so matter of factly, that Dean can’t even find it in himself to argue. Sam’s not wrong. A lot has changed since that evening last September, but that’s when it all began. That was the first time Dean stood in awe of this being who is unlike anyone he’s ever met.

And it suddenly hits him how huge a role Sam played in this working out. From the first meeting to the missed appointments to that faithful Friday in the spring, if it weren’t for Sam, Dean would still be alone, still be blaming himself for everything to do with their dad, and if he’s being honest, feeling pretty damn miserable about himself. Before he can think himself out of it he turns to his brother and looks him dead on. “Thanks, by the way. For, well…. Y’know. All of it.”

It’s the most Sam’s going to get, but it’s enough. He lights up, smiles knowingly, and walks over to wrap Dean up in a giant bear hug. “Of course Dean. You’re my brother.” And it’s just that simple.

“Come on. Go upstairs, open your present, and pick out something to wear.” Sam dismisses him as he releases his hug.

“You’re not curious what it is?” Dean shakes the box, unable to gleam anything from the noises he hears.

Sam shakes his head in disgust. “Dude, these walls aren’t as thick as you think. Nor am I. I don’t want to know.” Raising his hands above his shoulders in a surrendering gesture of denial Sam grabs his coat and walks out the door.

“Well, your face isn’t as thick as you think. Ya.” Dean mutters the pathetic response to an empty living room for no reason other than his own satisfaction before turning around and heading into his bedroom with the tempting package in hand.

Once there Dean closes and locks the door despite now being alone in the house. No need to tempt fate. Nervously he starts unwrapping the box, more anxious after his conversation with his brother and now replaying that and the text from Cas through his mind. As he tries to quell the thoughts his fingers work on their own accord, peeling the paper back slowly to torture him longer than necessary because even alone, even now, he still doesn’t know how to make things easy on himself.

“Holy shit.”

He barely makes a noise as he exclaims the sentiment, turning the package over in his hands as if this will somehow change the nature of what he’s holding. After re-reading the label for the third time he shakes his head slowly and says through the beginnings of a grin “ _‘Or something’_ my ass.”

He’s staring a package that boasts many safety, flexibility, and pleasure claims. It works with water or silicone-based lubricants. It is 5" x 2.1" and bright turquoise. It is great for beginners and pros alike. It has a suction cup that will adhere to any flat surface. It _glows in the dark._ And Cas wants him to wear this to dinner.

_> >You son of a bitch_. He sends the message off quickly, without thinking. He is going to make Cas pay for this.

_< <So you opened it then ;)_ Dean can practically see the smug smirk that must be playing across Cas’ lips as he types that. No way is he letting him get away with this bullshit.

_> >”or something”?!? Not exactly a watch here, man._ Dean has never in his life thought about playing around like this in public, but even as he recognizes that he realises that he is extremely excited about the prospect. He’s jarred from his wandering thoughts by his phone buzzing again.

_< <Is that a no? colour?_ Dean knows he can back out of this right now, that Cas wouldn’t think any less of him, but he’s surprised by how very much he wants to continue, how turned on he already is.

_> >It’s green, you sadistic bastard, you know it is. I still hate you though._ Dean tosses the phone on the bed while he goes to the bathroom to wash the new toy. He brings it back to his room and leaves it to dry on a washcloth on the bedside table. He then goes to the closet to pick out an outfit for tonight. After a few minutes surveying his options he settles on the same black tee and green button up he had worn that first time after the conference, when he had only just realised what Cas meant to him and was so nervous. He thinks back on that night, smiles as he remembers how Cas messed with him and sees it all so differently now, knowing how Cas felt and that he knew how Dean did too. As he strolls back to the bed to lay out the clothes he sees he has a new message he didn’t hear.

_ >>You may hate me less when you find out what we’re doing after dinner. _

Gulp. Dean drops the clothes and rereads the message until it’s seared into his brain. He closes his eyes and the words dance across his retinas like one of those optical illusions. He reaches down with his free hand to palm himself and finds he’s gone from ‘interested and intrigued’ to ‘ready for business’ in the space of one text message. _Goddamnit this man is going to be the death of me._

_< <Oh ya? Any hints?_ Dean’s already working his button and loosening his pants as he texts back, pleasantly surprised to be beginning round two of sexting his boyfriend on their anniversary. Being in a relationship is nothing like he thought it’d be, but he is not complaining. Well, sometimes Cas makes him scream, but that’s not exactly the same thing.

_ >>Greedy, aren’t we? Let’s just say I’ve arranged for Sam to be at Jessica’s till tomorrow, and I’m bringing an overnight bag with more than just a toothbrush. Dean, I’m going to show you *exactly* what I love most about you. _

Dean groans aloud as he reads the message, hand flying over his cock. He’s already so close, already wants Cas, but knows that he won’t get that for hours yet. That alone is enough to make him moan shamelessly, desperate to feel that connection, to be filled.

Dean shakily types back one-handed, forcing himself to slow but unable to stop himself altogether. _> >Do you really want me to wear this tonight?_

_ <<I promise to make it worth your while.  _

Dean groans again, and reaches for his lube. He spreads his legs as far apart as he can, and slides one slick finger over his hole. He gasps and does it again, slowly nudging it in up to the first knuckle. After a few deep breaths and without taking his other hand away from his cock he pushes in further, then slides in and out, gently, slowly, but with an itching impatience. He knows he’ll have to wait all night, he _knows_ that this is only going to get so much worse before it gets better, but he can’t bring himself to care. He hisses as he slides a second finger in and begins to work himself open.

The buzz startles him, and it takes him a second to place the noise. Finally he forces himself to let go of his cock and check, though he doesn’t let up scissoring himself with his other hand.

_ >>God I would give anything to be there right now, to see you spread out, prepping yourself for me already. It’s taking every inch of my self-control not to finish myself off just picturing it. _

Dean throws his head back and whimpers. The message, the sentiment, the physical sensations, the authority, the newness of it all, he can’t take it. He’s gasping for air already when he reaches over and carefully grabs the plug. He adds more lube and then oh so cautiously tests running it across his hole. He’s never played with a toy like this on his own before, but he remembers how it felt when Cas fucked him with one, and he proceeds with that in mind.

The first touch is cold, and all the more shocking since the rest of him feels on fire. He pushes slightly, not trying to go in, just to feel the heft of it, and something in him shifts. Dean needs it, needs to be filled this instant. He imagines it’s Cas’ fingers working it into him, imagines he’s here with him. He forces himself to slow down, to tease himself, pushing harder and then letting off the second it seems about to slip in. After doing this for a minute he can’t take it anymore and tips the plug in properly. The end slides in easily, and he gasps as the rest of it sinks in inch by inch. He’s completely overwhelmed by sensation, and lies perfectly still for a moment. Once he’s relaxed around it and thinks it feels like it’s in the right spot he tries shifting his weight experimentally. He moans wantonly as shivers course through his body. He rolls again and feels his body explode with sensation.

There’s no way he can last tonight wearing this. Even getting off now won’t be enough, he knows he’ll stay charged all evening and it’ll destroy him. He brings his hand back to toying with the base as his other returns to gently stroking himself, and then he begins in earnest. He slides his right hand quicker, he pushes deeper and deeper with his left. He can feel it building, feel the tense coil gathering within, and tosses his head side to side in delicious agony. Which is when he sees his phone light up.

_ <<Not yet Dean. Wait. _

He throws his head back against the pillow and shouts, angry and turned on and livid. _How dare Cas tell him that? How dare he wait so long to tell him?_ He could always lie, say he got started right away and didn’t check his phone until it was too late. Even as he thinks it, Dean knows he would never do that. Not only would he never get away with lying to Cas about this, he doesn’t want to. He wants to come, wants to ignore the message and keep going until he explodes and he sees spots and he’s boneless. But he doesn’t. He forces himself to lessen the touching, though he can barely make himself stick to it.

_ >>Green. I hate you, you cruel, sadistic bastard. _

_ <<I almost hate me too right now Dean, but I promise it’ll be worth it. Now get as close as you can without and then stop.  _

Dean groans in frustration but takes the little permission he has and redoubles his efforts, taking himself apart as thoroughly as possible. He can feel it building, he can tell he’s close. He could say he lost focus, that he misjudged how long he could last. He could say it was an accident. But just picturing Cas’ face after hearing that he stops. Completely. Dean lies there sweat-slick and panting, every nerve ending on fire, willing himself to breathe and to calm down.

After several minutes of heavy breathing and resentful groans Dean rolls over to grab his phone and text Cas. He yelps as the plug shifts inside of him, and only then does Dean fully appreciate Cas’ plan. Not only is Dean now primed, not only is he teetering treacherously close to the edge of the precipice, he now has to feel this “gift” from Cas shift deep within him for _hours_ yet.

He is so, so screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

_> >Ok... I almost couldn’t do it, but ok._ He kneels on all fours for a minute, weight braced on his forearms, trying to calm down a bit more and avoid any additional stimulation for just a brief respite.

_< <I know what you mean. Thank you. See you at dinner._ Dean feels his pulse quicken. How the hell is he supposed to survive this in public, in front of people?

Breathing heavily he carefully rolls over and sits on the edge of the bed. He moans as the plug shifts and hits him just so. For a second he forgets himself and pushes down again, chasing the glimmer of promised release. Then the memory of Cas’ message hits him again and he stops, limbs heavy, and orders himself to stand up. With a deep breath he begins to get dressed in the outfit he had picked out, though he trades in his soft broken in jeans for those of the stiffest, thickest denim he owns. In one respect the drag of the fabric is just one more form of torture, but in another it at least offers him the semblance of discretion for his rather obvious arousal. Once he’s all ready he turns and checks himself out in the mirror more thoroughly than usual, assuring himself that the base of the plug is not noticeable and no one will figure out what they are up to.

Each step down the stairs kills him. Having locked up he tries walking to the car in a casual manner, acutely aware that there’s basically a literal stick up his ass. He doubts he’s pulling it off, and as he slides into the driver’s seat and gasps aloud he gets confirmation to that affect. He takes a minute to collect himself and then starts up the engine, furious that the usually comforting vibrations are this time betraying him and sending him closer to the edge. He barely notices the drive, arriving on campus by autopilot and making a beeline for the pub. He isn’t even fully aware of how worked up he’s gotten until he sees Cas and heads directly over. Cas’ smile fades sharply at the expression on Dean’s face, and concern replaces it instantly. He goes to stand and holds Dean’s arms with both his hands, eyes searching his face.

“Dean? Dean are you ok? Let’s go to the bathroom and stop this, you’re clearly not enjoying it.”

“No.” The word is out before he thinks to say it, and it’s mostly air he’s so turned on. Dean takes a huge breath and makes himself sit down, ignoring Cas’ open-mouthed surprise. “No. Not red. Yellow. Just….help me, please?” And he reaches a hand out across the table.

Cas is visibly moved but takes it in his own, and begins cooing soft phrases at the table to soothe him. “There, there, it’s ok, you’re alright, I’m right here. You’re doing so wonderfully, you have no idea how beautiful you look right now, you’re incredible. Just a little bit longer Dean, you can do it. I’m going to take such good care of you later, I’m going to make this all worth it. Just a little bit longer, think you can do that for me babe?"

Dean hears his breath slow, feels his whole body relax, and suddenly it doesn’t feel like torture, it feels like a gift. He focuses on slowing his breathing even further, but he knows now he can do this, that he can be good for Cas.

“Ok.” He breathes, almost inaudibly. Cas smoothes circles into the back of his hand over and over again, grounding sigils to keep him safe, keep him tethered. After a few more moments he notices the beer perspiring in front of him. He gratefully reaches out and downs a large sip, desperate for the refreshment and the shock of it.

“Better now?” Cas asks tenderly, still clearly ready to call this off at any sign that Dean needs out.

“Better. Green, Cas.” Dean smiles and nods once, confirming to Cas that he means it. He’s grateful the waiter didn’t show up during that, but is a bit suspicious when he shows up immediately after. A large part of him is convinced the guy was waiting till they finished.

“Are we ready to order?” He asks, smile glued in place. There’s something so perfect, so ‘how can I help you?’ about him that rubs Dean the wrong way. Dude seems like a smarmy bastard, but Dean is still clear-headed enough to realise he’s probably projecting his own frustration onto some poor kid.

“Yes, I think we’ll do the special, two bacon cheeseburgers with fries, thanks.” Cas takes charge and orders for both on them, which would be a bit presumptuous except for the fact that a) he knows exactly what Dean likes, and b) he has proven this by orchestrating tonight, leading to c) Dean’s brain is so distracted by the plug that he doesn’t think he could order a damn thing right now.

Once the waiter leaves Cas leans in and whispers “That is ok with you, isn’t it?” Dean just nods, still trying to articulate himself. As his thoughts dwell on the sensations of the plug he finally remembers the packaging and glares across the table at Cas.

“ _Firefly Pleasure Plug_? Are you serious?” Cas chuckles, tucking his chin and crinkling his eyes as the warm, rough sound bubbles up from his throat.

“I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t even gone looking for one, I was just on Amazon ordering a textbook and ended up browsing the adult section and there it was, begging to be yours.”

“’Browsing the adult section of Amazon.’ Y’know, like you do.” Dean scoffs, thankful for something generic to talk about, even if it’s how his diabolical boyfriend is a giant nerd.

“ _Ut fit_.”

“Gesundheit.”

Cas smiled, “Sorry, it’s a reflex. Nevermind.”

Dean actually forgets the plug for a minute and reaches out to Cas again, but for a different reason. He holds his hand and squeezes it once, reassuring him. “Hey, it’s me. Don’t do that. Hit me with your nerd ray.”

Cas begins to shake his head and then catches himself before taking a deep breath and looking back up into Dean’s eyes. Dean tries to make sure Cas sees the same acceptance there that he always offers Dean, the same investment and attention Dean always receives from Cas. Finally he sighs and begins.

“It’s, it’s silly, really. There was an author, Livy, who told this story about some cows, and he said they mooed, ‘as they do.’ I was teaching this in a class a few years ago when that expression was all the rage, and my students got so excited over this silly idiom that they started using it all the time. Word got around and now half my department seems to say “ _ut fit_ ” rather than “like you do.” Like I said, it’s rather silly.” Cas finishes and won’t look Dean in the eye, and for a second nothing else is happening in this world and Dean needs to fix this.

“Hey, Cas. I love your silly Roman shit. When you go on about this stuff you light up, and I can see the passion in your eyes, and it’s amazing. You’re adorable, _ut fit_.” Dean tries to say the dumb thing properly, and apparently it works because Cas lights up.

“You’re amazing Dean. I can’t believe I get to be with you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Cas says it so simply, so honestly, that Dean’s blown away. Even after all this time, even after everything they’ve shared, he continues to be surprised by moments like this. He’s still not sure how Cas can feel this way. Nervous about the intensity of a comment like that and where this could be going, Dean casts about for a topic change, and as he shifts in his seat he is instantly reminded of one.

“But seriously, _Firefly_ Pleasure Plug?” There’s a smirk on his face that is instantly matched by Cas’ as he realises Dean needs a break from the more intimate conversation topic.

“Well it just seemed too perfect Dean. I mean, really, how could I not?” Cas is grinning now, that diabolical wolfish grin that always spells trouble for Dean, usually in the most delicious way. “How is it, by the way?” He takes a sip of his beer calmly, as if he hadn’t just asked Dean how the toy up his ass felt over beers at a pub on a university campus.

“It’s weird Cas, that’s how it is.” Dean snaps back before his brain has the chance to catch up. Seeing the hurt expression on his boyfriend’s face Dean tries to back pedal. “Sorry, it’s just. It’s kinda distracting. Besides, what with the, uh, almost situation, it’s tough to play it cool in public, y’know?” He looks into Cas’ eyes hoping to see forgiveness, to see understanding. He sees both all to well.

“Oh I do know Dean, I definitely know. You’re not the only one edging right now.”

It takes Dean a moment to realise what this means, and then his eyes enlarge questioningly. “Are you saying you’re dying now too?” He must have misunderstood; Cas couldn’t possibly be that cruel to taunt them both at the same time.

“I’m saying I thought about you all afternoon, and when I texted you I was touching myself, and right now I feel like I’m going to explode and it’s killing me. So don’t think I don’t get it.” Cas is flushed and a bit breathless by the end of this confession, and Dean notices for the first time just how wrecked Cas looks too. He was so distracted trying to keep his own arousal in check he somehow missed noticing Cas’.

“Ya, well, at least you don’t have a damn plug brushing against your spot every five seconds reminding you just how close you are.” Dean spits it out almost bitterly, and he knows that anyone else would miss the way he’s loving being tortured like this, especially by Cas. For Cas. From the grin that spreads across the man’s face Dean knows he was right.

“Actually, I do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Three simple little words that short circuit Dean’s brain.

“You…..what?” Dean is hallucinating. That’s the only answer.

“I do have a plug brushing against me every five seconds. I bought two of them.” Cas says it calmly, but Dean can see the flush creeping across his flesh, can see the fine perspiration breaking out across Cas’ brow. _Holy shit is he seriously doing this?_

“But, why Cas? Why would you do that?” Dean can barely stand Cas doing this to him, he can’t imagine doing it to himself.

Cas breaks into a knowing smile, and almost sadly responds “I’m a doctoral candidate in Latin, Dean. Surely you must have realised that only a masochist would do such a thing.”

Dean can’t take it anymore. He thought he could do this, he thought he could make his way through, but he can’t. He reaches into his wallet, pulls out two twenties, and stands up. As he does so the plug shifts in the most electrifying way and he gasps at the sensation. He grabs Cas’ hand and starts dragging him away.

“But Dean, we’ve already ordered, I don’t understand. What about your burger?”

“Fuck the burger, Cas, I can’t… I need this. Now.” Dean drags him away, pulling him out to the parking lot and towards his Impala. Once there he places the keys in Cas’ hand, his own closing around them in a reverent act of trust.

“You’ll have to drive. Please Cas? I just, I can’t. Please?” Dean’s almost whimpering, and Cas takes the keys and solemnly nods.

“I don’t think I could refuse you anything begging me like that, Dean.” At this Dean actually groans, and crumples into the passenger seat, leaning back awkwardly in an attempt to minimize the traction the plug can gain. Cas climbs in carefully and winces slightly as he sits. Dean remembers that Cas was there already when he arrived at the pub.

“You fucker, you got there early so I wouldn’t see, didn’t you?” The accusation has no teeth, and Cas just chuckles in response. “Son of a bitch, Cas.”

“Don’t. No talking. I’ll drive, but you can’t distract me more than I am. I need to concentrate.” Cas is gripping the steering wheel so tight his fingers are discoloured, and his jaw is clenched tightly. Dean gulps and nods before returning to willing his dick to calm down.

It’s a tense drive, and while there’s no banter the air is filled with a sense of anticipation so pronounced it’s a miracle either of them can breathe. Dean glances over and is in awe of how controlled Cas seems, despite being clearly turned on. How he’s able to drive while Dean’s lying there falling completely apart he’ll never know.

When they turn off the main street into Dean’s neighbourhood Cas finally starts speaking again. He sounds like he’s run a marathon, like he’s desperate to maintain control, and just hearing him wrecked like that is enough to make Dean moan quietly, trying to hide it as Cas goes on.

“Do you have any idea how perfect you are? How glorious this past year has been for me? Being a part of your life, Dean, it means everything to me, and I’m not going to stop telling you so until you believe me. And then I’m still not going to stop. You need to understand this.” He’s almost gasping as he turns onto Dean’s street, and the drive up to the house is excruciating. “That’s why I wanted to do this, tonight. I wanted to give you something to try and show you what you mean to me. Something I’ve never given anyone else.”

The realisation of what that means, of the significance of what Cas is offering, has Dean whimpering in the corner. His hand is pushing down hard on the crotch of his jeans and he’s not sure if it’s to chase the friction or to stem the waves of desire hitting him. He doesn’t say anything though, since Cas specifically told him not to. Part of him thinks that maybe Cas made that rule was as much to allow himself to voice this to Dean as to ensure they arrived in one piece. They pull into the driveway and Cas cuts the engine, breathing shallowly but otherwise seeming decently composed.

“That’s why I wanted to do this. I wanted you to think this was about torturing you, about making you wait, about teasing you, so that when you learned what I actually had in mind for you you’d realise that I went through the same thing, not just tonight, but since the start. I did this because I want you to see that I am willing to do whatever it takes to convince you how I feel.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I would do anything for you, Dean.”

Dean’s speechless. He’s touched, and floored, and turned on, and he knows without any doubt how much he loves this man. This man brought him out of his darkness and saved him in every way that matters, and now he’s giving him even more. Now that Cas isn’t driving anymore he decides to be bold and take the lead. With a wink and a grin, Dean grabs his hand again and says “Come on, Cas.”

They barely make it to the door, and only then it’s because there are neighbours out on the street and they don’t really want them to realise what’s going on. The second the door is closed they’re leaning against it, bodies completely pressed together. Dean feels the door pushing against the plug, feels Cas’ hard length pushing against his own, feels strong arms pining him down and hungry lips nipping his neck.

“Cas,” he barely manages to breathe out. “Bed.” He’s reminded of their first time, how different things were then, but how so much is the same. Cas is still standing here beside him, still trying to convey how much he cares, still being careful with him and making sure he’s alright. Cas is still trying to show Dean how he’s his whole world, and worthy of that. It’s harder to endure than the plug.

They pull apart gasping and manage to make it upstairs without falling too much, and the second they’re in Dean’s room Cas slams the door and pushes him onto the bed with a growl. He rips off Dean’s shirts and starts devouring every inch of Dean’s flesh this reveals. Desperate kisses pouring love, desire, and sheer _want_ into every square inch of Dean’s body. The pants are next, and while Cas is tearing off Dean’s there’s an awkward shuffle as Dean tries to return the favour. Both of them are wincing in pleasure as the plugs shift, spurring them on to act faster, faster, now. Cas leans back and carefully removes Dean’s boxer-briefs, mindful of the plug, and then stands and shucks his own. Coming back to the bed he lies on Dean for just a moment before sliding off, onto his back, and reaching out for Dean.

“Do it, Dean.” The look in his eyes is loving and lustful but with a touch of hesitation.

“I’ll take care of you Cas. Don’t worry. Green?” Dean moves an errant lock of hair out of Cas’ eyes, and the man visibly calms, melts into the bed and into Dean’s embrace.

“Green.” Cas kisses him, hard, and only pulls back when he feels Dean’s hands break away. “Don’t take it out yet?”

“Cas, there’s no point, it’s ok.” Dean continues reaching back, trying to get a good grip on the base to remove his own plug. Cas’ hand stills him and he looks back to try to understand.

“Don’t? I want… I want you to feel me all around you. I want you to feel everything.” Cas’ request sounds so small, so hesitant, Dean can’t help but want to make it come true. As he grinds against Cas and feels the plug sliding inside him he can’t possibly refuse.

“Ok Cas. Anything you want.” Dean leans in to kiss him again, passionate, sloppy, and full of love and desire. As the kiss deepens Dean slides a hand along Cas’ side, working his way down before wrapping his fingers around the base of Cas’ plug and moaning to feel it there. Cas tightens his grip around Dean’s shoulders then gasps and arches his back as the plug rubs against his prostate. Dean teases him a bit, pulling the plug out just a touch and then ramming it back in, causing Cas to writhe underneath him. Cas is sweating and cursing and Dean can’t believe how gorgeous he looks. He can’t believe that a year ago today this gorgeous man walked into his life and he had never even thought about a dude before then but sure enough, here he is teasing Cas with a freaking butt plug. His life is so different now and so much better and he needs to show Cas how much he cares, how much life means to him now. How much Cas means.

Dean leans over and slides his mouth over Cas’ length, greedily licking up and down. Cas moans at the increased sensation, and grips Dean’s hair tightly. Dean continues to play with the plug while sucking Cas as enthusiastically as he can, and soon he can feel him bucking beneath him, trembling, and Dean knows Cas is already close. He himself is having trouble holding it together, feeling the plug within, but he holds out for Cas’ sake. He needs to make this good for him. After a few moments like this Cas can’t take it anymore and begs Dean, with a broken voice full of want, “Please…”

Dean doesn’t have to be asked twice. He’s got a hell of a lot of self-control, but seeing Cas beneath him, sweaty, wanton, and desperate, there’s not a chance in hell he can hold back. He tears the plug out of Cas as quickly as he can without hurting him, then lubes up and slides in all in one fluid motion. The noise Cas makes is inhuman and between that and the tightness Dean almost comes already.

Dean has never done this before, but after months with Cas he knows what he likes, knows what feels good, and he tries to do the same for Cas. He slides in and out slowly, intensely, making sure he drags the tip across Cas’ prostate and makes him see stars. Dean’s already fighting his own orgasm, but he wants this to last, wants to make this go on as long as possible. Cas is a puddle, he’s barely moving, and Dean’s gasping from the new sensation. It’s not what he expected, but it’s still amazing and he can’t get enough. The thought that Cas trusts him this much turns him on more than anything else he’s feeling.

That’s when Cas’ breathing changes and Dean sees a determination in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. Cas is done lying here, and has regained enough control that he wants to be in charge again. He reaches back and nimble fingers take hold of the plug still in Dean. He realises what’s about to happen just a second before it starts, and then Cas is moving the plug back and forth, fucking Dean while Dean fucks him. Feeling Cas all around him is incredible, and the sensation at both ends is completely overwhelming. Dean has to lean his head on Cas’ collarbone to collect himself, and Cas takes advantage of the access this grants him and bites down on Dean’s shoulder.

It’s too much. Every inch of him, inside and out, is touching Cas and hypersensitive and he just can’t resist any longer. Dean comes with a shout as Cas continues working the plug, and as Dean stutters into Cas he can feel him clench around him, squeezing every last drop out. When he can’t support his weight anymore and his body turns to jelly he pulls out and collapses beside Cas, gasping for air.

“Just…just give me a second Cas. I’m sorry. I just need a second and I’ll –”

“Shhhhh.” Cas soothes him with a kiss, tracing a finger over his chest that’s still heaving. “Take a minute, love. It’s alright.” Cas keeps touching him gently, digits finding new paths to explore, sliding through the sweat he’s doused in and keeping his arousal high, despite the recent release.

“You have no idea, none, how incredible you are. What you do to me. I need to show you. I need to make you understand.” With that Cas reaches for his plug, lying discarded at the foot of the bed. Maintaining eye contact with a shocked Dean Cas slides it back in, trembling slightly at the intrusion. “Later, I want you to fuck me again, and I want to feel your cum inside me until then.”

“Jesus Cas…” Dean mutters, in awe of how filthy this seemingly innocent nerd has become once unleashed. He slides a hand down Cas’ thigh in reverence, and Cas leans into the touch. Cas shifts to between Dean’s knees, and slowly begins working the plug again, sliding it in and out, achingly slowly, knowing it’s too soon and loving the way Dean basks in the torture of it. “Cas, I can’t…it’s too soon…I’m not….”

“I know what I’m doing, Dean,” Cas growls back, never letting up, and after a particularly smug grin his left hand snakes between them and gently closes around Dean’s spent cock. “I’ve always known.”

He starts sliding his fingers over it, gently, kindly, using Dean’s own cum as lube. Dean starts trembling, shaking, swearing, gasping. The dual assault is almost too much to bear, but his eyes convey how much he is loving this burden. Cas’ own breath is ragged, and Dean can see how close he is. _How the hell is he holding back?_

“I’m not done with you yet, Winchester.” Hearing Cas use his name like that has him whimpering, and his dick twitches in Cas’ hand. “Seems you’re not done either.”

Cas continues working him gently, casually, as if he has all the time in the world, and Dean is trembling and falling apart again while his dick keeps swelling and he can feel the first stirrings of another release. He whimpers when he figures out just how at Cas’ mercy he’s about to be, and then it happens. Cas seems satisfied to have reached the right moment, and his right hand stops playing with the plug and slowly pulls it out all the way. He tries to line up, but Dean’s shaking so hard he’s not sure how Cas will even accomplish that. Just before moving Cas looks Dean straight in the eyes and asks him “Green?”

Remembering the first time Cas touched him, and all they’ve been through since, Dean echoes Cas’ response from oh so many months ago and answers fiercely “Damnit, Cas. Drive.”

Cas plunges into him with such ferocity that Dean thinks he’s going to come again this second. The pace he sets is vicious and Dean can’t do anything, can’t thrust back, can’t help at all; he just lies there, grunting slightly with each thrust and clawing desperately at Cas’ shoulders as he tries to ground himself, tries to survive the intensity of the sensations he’s feeling.

_Cas wants to make me come again before he even does once, and he’s been edging just as much as me all day. How the hell is this even real?_ Dean asks himself this while climbing closer and closer to the edge, and looking at the piercing eyes penetrating his soul he finally, finally gets it. He, he isn’t alone in this. All this time he thought Cas would tire of him, would realise how much smarter he was than Dean, how much better he could do, and would leave. And for the first time, Dean sees that Cas feels the same way about Dean that Dean feels about him. That he’s in awe of him, that he loves him, and that worship is what tips him over the edge, screaming as he comes again, clawing Cas’ skin wherever he can and convulsing violently.

Cas comes instantly, the added pressure just too much to resist, and stutters through the aftershocks as he gasps, mouth agape, seemingly unable to breathe properly for the enormity of the sensations. He collapses on top of Dean and the two of them pant heavily, slick in sweat and cum, waiting to return to normal and in no rush to chase away the glow they are currently basking in.

“Holy fuck.” Dean’s the first to recover speech, and Cas just chuckles a grunt in agreement. He rolls onto his side and Dean matches him, neither needing to close the gap, content just to stare into each other’s eyes and smile. Their smiles seem deeper though now, filled with more understanding, and the love that passes between them is almost beyond description.

“Yes. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’ll sleep for a year,” Cas laughs out, collapsing backwards in exhaustion. Dean snuggles closer and accepts Cas arm around him. He doesn’t like to call himself a cuddler, but he also never figured he’d have a boyfriend, so maybe labels don’t really matter than much anymore.

“Works for me.” Dean agrees, wiggling slightly closer and draping a leg over his boyfriend’s. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Cas’ chest. “Happy anniversary, Cas.”

Cas tilts his neck and presses a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “Happy anniversary, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for all your kudos, comments, and support! There will be at least two more time stamps in this verse, though I'm not sure when I'll get to them. Love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> It's all written and I'll be posting a chapter a day this week. Happy Thanksgiving!


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